The Curious Village
by CrazyLittleAlice456
Summary: What if their was another member that tagged along with Professor Layton and Luke? What if she was Layton's best friend since birth and she was secretly in love with him? It didn't help that they were in a strange town trying to solve a mystery. Game 1.
1. Prologue: The Golden Apple

_- Prologue -_

_The Golden Apple_

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><p>It was a warm summer's day as we drove. The scenery was a peaceful countryside, insects humming about, the greenery and lands stretching out like green oceans for miles and miles. I sat in the backseat, absentmindedly reorganizing my pocketbook while Hershel drove happily and Luke gazed out the window.<p>

Occasionally, Hershel and I would meet gazes in the mirror and give each other small smiles. I've known him since we were born; we were best friends growing up, and although we fought and hated each other sometimes, we always made up. It didn't help, though, that a large fact still remained. I was hopelessly in love with him, but I was too scared and in denial to admit, and besides, he didn't feel the same way. I don't know how I could recover from that blow if he said he didn't like me anymore than a friend. Plus, it could ruin our ever long friendship.

"I don't understand, Professor," Luke said suddenly, holding up the letter we'd received from one called Lady Dahlia. "Why are we going to help solve an inheritance dispute?"

"Because Hershel's been dying for an adventure and this is the only one that would accept him," I said from the backseat, sniggering. Luke joined in.

Hershel rolled his eyes. "Luke, Sawyer, do you think I would really take on such an ordinary request as that?"

"Knowing you, you wouldn't," I mumbled, catching his eyes.

We teased. We've always had and we always will. But, of course, I never mean those things. I would never mean those things. And I knew that Luke would always get highly amused by our teasing, so we did it often. Well, I probably did it more than Hershel, because he was such a gentleman, and he didn't want to hurt my feelings. Maybe that's why I've fallen in love with him more and more everyday.

"Oh, no!" he said, ignoring my comment, but he had the biggest grin on his face. "This is an altogether unique and exciting situation, and it has piqued my intellectual curiosity.

"But, I suppose it would be best to explain the case before we arrive at our destination."

"Yes, Hershel, that would be helpful," I told him, serious this time and curious. I had been wondering why Hershel had called me up and told me he would be going on a mystery-adventure and if I was able to go. Of course, I had canceled all plans. For him. I was smitten with him; it was pretty bad.

Hershel cleared his throat.

"Two months ago, Baron Augustus Reinhold passed away." He shot me a sympathetic glance as I grimaced. I didn't do well with death, ever since my parents died when I was just eighteen and fresh out of school, about to head into college. But now, it's okay. I've accepted it.

"Shortly after his passing, his will was disclosed. The contents of it were fascinating, to say the least. The Reinhold family treasure, the Golden Apple, is hidden somewhere within this village. To whomever successfully locates this treasure, I offer the whole of my estate."

"Wow," I breathed out, "giving someone your whole estate just for finding a pretty apple."

Hershel nodded. "Naturally, those who attended the reading of the will immediately set out in search of the Golden Apple. But, in the end, everybody came back empty-handed. It turns out that no one had even heard of such a treasure existing, until its mention in the will."

"That's some puzzle all right," Luke exclaimed, holding the letter still.

"Quite," Hershel replied. "Augustus Reinhold staked his entire fortune just to create one more puzzle before his death. What a perplexing individual. I wish I could I have met him while he was still alive."

"Something tells me, Hershel, that you two would've got along great," I said, a laughing tone in my voice. Luke sniggered.

I saw Hershel's cheeks flare. Time to make him embarrassed.

"By the way, honey, just what is this Golden Apple?" I asked him and he got redder, if possible. Luke sniggered louder.

"S-Some sp-speculate it's a rare an-antique," Hershel explained, his voice wavering. He cleared his throat and recovered. "While others say it could be a gem, yet its identify remains elusive. But, I can't shake the feeling that this matter is linked to some larger mystery. Something huge."

"And probably dangerous," I added ominously.

Hershel looked quite worried as he chuckled nervously and looked at me. What? Was he worried about my safety? I was a big girl now, not the little girl he thought he saw, but it still made me blush at the thought.

"Aha! Is that your famous intuition acting up again, Professor?" Luke asked while chuckling.

"Hm. Well, our first step needs to be getting to town," Hershel said, his voice a bit stern. Apparently, my comment about the journey being dangerous had toned him down.

"This is all so exciting!" Luke exclaimed happily.

"I know, right!" I told him, equally excited and happy.

"I hope St. Mystere is ready for the famous archeologist -" Luke started, but I cut him off.

" - and puzzle-solving detective, Hershel Layton!"

"Ha ha! Oh, Sawyer, you know as well as I do that I am no detective."

"Stop being so modest, sweets, you know you are," I told him, embarrassing him again. I was on a roll.

Hershel cleared his throat again, his mood excited again. "Augustus Reinhold's wife, Lady Dahlia, has asked me to investigate the situation. It seems she came across my name by chance when reading an article about me in the papers."

"And you immediately decided to take her up on her request, eh?" Luke questioned, a sly tone to his voice.

I scowled almost instantly and fell back into the seat. Yes, I was jealous, and although I didn't want to look it, I was. Lady Dahlia was probably regal and tall, like most Ladies, while I would be the short and frumpy best friend. Life wasn't fair.

Hershel laughed. "Well, Luke, a true gentleman never refuses the request of a beautiful lady." He looked at me as he said this, but I pretended not to notice. After all, he's called me beautiful multiple times.

"If you say so, Professor…"

"We should be nearing the town by now," Hershel said, changing the subject. "Look at the map in the envelope and help me with directions, please."

"You got it!" Luke said.

I peeked over Luke's shoulder to see the map, only to find a piece of paper with different pathways and five different locations. I scanned the riddle quickly, fond the answer without difficulty, and sat back. Hershel raised his eyebrows at me, but I smiled cheekily and waved a hand.

Sometimes I didn't act or look it, but I was extremely smart.

"What in the -?" Luke exclaimed. "What's this -?"

"Lady Dahlia seems to have given us a test. We'll need to decipher this map in order to find the village. She wants to see if we're capable of cracking the mystery surrounding the Reinhold fortune."

"Which, I think we're plenty capable enough," I added, smiling.

Hershel smiled back. "Care to give it a go, Luke?"

"I'll do my best! A puzzle like this should be a snap for the apprentice of the great Professor Layton."

"Very well, Luke. I'll leave this one to you. Think of it as a warm-up for things to come."

Luke huffed. "'My village is on a road that leads to no other towns. I look forward to seeing you there.' That's all then? Hmm…Layton's apprentice saves the day!" He suddenly exclaimed, pointing to a village located northwest, the one that wasn't connected any other pathways. "Here it is, Professor, Sawyer!"

"Good job, Luke," I congratulated.

"Right you are. We should see it on the horizon any moment now," Hershel said, winking at me and I winked back.

"Huh? Professor…do you mean to say that you already figured out the town's location?"

Hershel laughed. "I'm afraid I couldn't help myself. A basic puzzle like that is easy enough to solve with a glance."

"Hey, I solved it, too!"

Hershel laughed again. "Anyhow, you'd best gather your things, Luke, Sawyer love. We've arrived." He didn't catch himself saying love, but I did, and I blushed furiously.

Little did I know that this whole adventure would changed my life, forever.


	2. Chapter One: Reinhold Manor Awaits

Special thanks and oodles of love and hugs and cupcakes to: **piggyliketruffles**, **Glass cherry**, **James Birdsong**, **porkehXx**, **kt2209** for reviewing. It means a lot to me!

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><p><em>- Chapter One -<em>

_Reinhold Manor Awaits_

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><p>We pulled the car up where the forest ended and slowly got out. Hershel helped me out and we all looked forward. In front of us was a large village, the houses and roofs yellow and red. In the background, a strange and ominous tower was sticking out in different places and it made it look very unstable.<p>

Cautiously, we headed forward and came to a stop in front of a drawbridge that was currently let up. The village looked olden and aged, a worn cobblestone pathway leading into the town.

"Interesting," Hershel said. "It appears that this drawbridge is the entrance to the village."

"I already figured that out, Layton," I told him, grinning madly. He looked a bit embarrassed like always. Carefully, I slipped my hand in his. "For protection, you know," I said nonchalantly.

"And we're stuck on the outside. What should we do, Professor?" Luke looked around while Hershel intertwined our fingers ("For protection," he replied cheekily when I questioned why he did so - not that I minded). "Oh, look over there! There's a man standing on the other side of the river. Maybe he can help us."

A larger man stood on the other side of the river. He wore a white tank and some jean shorts and brown shoes. His neck was pale and hung out, looking like a turkey neck, and he had a large mustache. His eyes and hair were hidden underneath a red cap.

Hershel noticed and called out to him, "Good day, sir! We'd very much like to gain access to the village. Could you please drop the bridge for us?"

"Do I LOOK like the sort to do droppin' the bridge for a bunch of fancy-looking outsiders?" he boomed back angrily.

"No need to be so rude!" I yelled back, just as angry as I huffed.

Hershel squeezed my hand and muttered, "Sawyer," under his breath as a warning before turning back to the man, "We received a letter of invitation from Lady Dahlia. I don't suppose that changes things, does it?"

"From Lady Dahlia? Well then, I'd sure like to lower the bridge for you, Mr. Fancypants -" I growled underneath my breath; how dare he insult Hershel! " - But the engine is busted and I can only move this blasted bridge with the hand crank. Hrmph! There's all these infernal slots I could put the crank in, but I got no clue which one to use…Hrmph! So, smart guy, you got any idea which one's the right one?"

Short Man threw across a crank while he pointed. Hershel squinted as he tried to see the slots; must've been hard, since his sights never really been twenty-twenty.

"It should fit in slot number one!" Hershel told him, throwing back the crack.

The man did another, "Hrmph!" and slowly slid the crank. It fit like a glove!

"Nice job, Hershel," I told him quietly.

"Thank you, love."

That's the second time he's called me love! I wondered if he knew what he was doing but by the look on his face, I knew he didn't know. It hurt my feelings slightly, but nonetheless, I blushed and smiled widely.

"That'll do it! Hold on a second. I'll let 'er down. I'm gonna say it again, I just don't feel right about letting outsiders into St. Mystere."

"Why -" But Hershel cut me off again with a squeeze of my hand and him saying my name. Ugh, doesn't he know what he does to me?

Slowly, but surely, the man grunted as he effortlessly turned the handle. The drawbridge slowly came down and stopped in front of us. Smiling to ourselves, we finally entered the town. Finally.

"Yes! We've finally arrived in St. Mystere! I'm so excited! I wonder what mysteries await us here." Luke babbled on, jumping around.

Hershel and I laughed; it sounded like soprano and bass mixed and I liked that sound. "Well, Luke, we'll find out soon enough," Hershel told him. "Just be careful, _the both of you_," he shot me a stern glance; our hands were still intertwined, "not to let your excitement cloud your ability to analyze your surroundings. This will, after all, be quite dangerous." And he squeezed my hand again, like he was making sure I was all right, or something.

We stopped at the very entrance in town. An inn was in front of us, looking worn, and a few houses lined the cobblestone pathway, some with smoke coming from their chimneys. A woman with a beak for a nose had four differently-shaped hat in front of her and was muttering to herself. Beside her, a man with a large mustache, who was giggling to himself.

These were some strange people here in St. Mystere.

As we were walking forward, we were stopped by the old woman. She seemed kind and sweet and smelled of baby powder.

"Oh, hello. Pleasure to meet you. Welcome to St. Mystere, where our local export is…the puzzle!"

"Hello, ma'am, it's nice to meet you too," I said politely, smiling.

"So beautiful, and so polite," she turned to Hershel, "you're a lucky man you are. Oh, and look, a little one! But you look far to young to be parents." Apparently, she had just noticed Luke.

Blushing furiously, Luke laughing, we unhooked our fingers and tried to protest, but she said:

"Oh, before I forget, you should know that every time you solve a puzzle, you earn a set number of picarats. The more picarats you a puzzle is worth, the tougher the puzzle will be. They say lovely things happen when you gather enough picarats. Imagine that, a reward for solving puzzles!

"For practice, you missy, try this little riddle that your husband's hat reminded me of. Think good and hard before you answer.

"These four top hats," she gestured to them, "are all the same height, but the length of each brim is different. In other words, the hats are equally tall but vary in width. One of these four hat has a brim and height that are the same length. Which hat is it?"

Still blood red in my face, it didn't go good with my pale skin, I moved over and looked at each hat. Hat A had medium brim length, hat B had a shorter one, hat C had a longer one, and hat D had the longest. I knew the last two canceled out, because they were just too long. So, B or A. To me, A seemed like the sensible choice, and Hershel always said to go with your gut feeling. Speaking of him, he was staring at me with most intense expression in his brown eyes and it made me even more hot and bothered. Luke was still snickering.

"Hat A," I told her, "because it's an optical illusion. You take a hat," I grabbed Hershel's hat off, for instance; it matched A the best, "and line it up, see." It matched up perfectly and I slipped it back on his head. I picked it out, you know, and even though Claire gave it to him, I was the one who said let's get this for him.

"Oh, bravo! Smart and beautiful, you've yourself a keeper there, Mister," she said, clapping her hands. "I think you've got the hang of this. If you try your options one by one, you'll eventually find the answer. However, you'll also encounter lots of puzzles that can't be solved by simply trying all the answers. If you answer incorrectly, the picarats you can earn from a puzzle decrease. Tough stuff, hmm? Well then, best of luck to you! I'll be rooting for you three!"

"What a nice woman," Luke commented, laughing at our expressions. We were both blushing and looking awkwardly away from each other.

After we walked a few more paces, the man laughing to himself with the thick mustache pulled us over and gave us a cheerful smile.

"Keh heh heh! What a dandy lot you all are. Must be new to St. Mystere, eh?" he asked us, giving me a once over and grinning madly.

Despite the comments made earlier, I pressed myself up against Hershel and wrapped an arm around his waist. Hershel put his arm over my shoulder, confused, because he apparently didn't seem the creeper who was checking me out.

"The name's Stachenscarfen, but you call me Stachen, babe."

Apparently, Hershel and Luke both heard this and they flinched. But, Hershel's arm wrapped tighter around me as he said:

"Erm, yes, my name is Hershel Layton, and this is Sawyer Mason and Luke Triton."

Stachen nodded and threw me a smile. "I've got some advice for you. Go look behind that barrel back there. Don't ask questions! Just do it!"

"I'll go," Luke offered, seeing as Hershel wasn't about to let me leave and I didn't want to leave his side. He made me feel so safe and protected and taken care of…I think I've fallen even more in love with him.

Luke came back holding a golden coin in his hands. "What's this?"

"'Round these parts, that's what called a hint coin. When you find yourself up against a doozy of a puzzle, you'll want a hint. Trust me on this one. And it's just those times when you'll want to use a hint coin to purchase a hint. I bet you think puzzles will be a breeze now, eh? Think again!" I jumped when he yelled. "There are a limited number of hint coins in this world! So don't go wasting coins on any old riddles. Because, if you do, you'll be sorry! REEEAL sorry! Mind you, hint coins won't always be stuffed in barrels, so look for anything that seems suspicious. Got all that? Good. See you around, sweetie." And with that he was gone.

Hershel's face looked furious. "How dare he talk to you like that?" He turned to me with a very serious expression and looked down; I only came to his chin, after all. "You must promise to stay by my side, okay, Sawyer?"

"Of course, Hershel," and I wrapped my pinky around his like we used to do when we were five. "Pinky promise."

"I'll hold that on you."

"Look I found two more coins!" Luke exclaimed, producing them. "Put them in your pocketbook, Sawyer!" I did so and we were on our way from the entrance.

We were now in the plaza. More buildings stood here, including a clock tower and an odd place with ivy vines growing all over it. The large tower stood ominously in the background, looking as if it would topple over any minute.

A brisk young chap came over to us, dressed in red pants, a blue shirt, and a striped scarf. His hair was brown and neatly parted. All in all, he looked very proper and crisp.

"Hello!" he said brightly, in an almost annoying way. "I'm Percy, St. Mystere's unofficial 'writer in residence.'"

"Hullo, I'm Sawyer, and this is Hershel and Luke. Do you perhaps know the way to Reinhold Manor?" I asked shyly.

"Reinhold Manor, you ask? Head up the road to the right. It's immense, so you'll know it when you see it. But before you go, why not try your hand at this puzzle I thought up of? See if you can figure out which house is mine from the instructions I give you. I'll even sweeten the deal for you! If you manage to solve this puzzle, I'll tell you about this village. So, how about it? You will try, won't you?"

"Of course," I answered, ready to go.

"Okay, listen carefully, go out the front door of my place and turn left. At the first intersection you come across, take a right. Turn right again at the following intersection and you'll come face-to-face with the morning sun." He held out a piece of paper that had seven different houses and intersections. "Here you are." I scanned it thoroughly before handing it back to him. "It's the blue one." And I knew I was right.

"Impressive!" Percy exclaimed and Hershel nodded in my direction. "I thought I'd set out quite the puzzle, but you made short work of it. Now for the gossip I promised you. The Reinhold family owns all of the land this village is built upon. I hear they own all the buildings, too. I guess you could say this town sort of belongs to the Reinholds."

"Wow," I breathed as I looked at the boys with an awed expression. These people were very powerful-sounding.

"Well, I'll be on my way now. But rest assured the next time we meet, I'll have a harder puzzle for you!"

"I'm counting on that," I told him, slightly smiling and he blushed and walked off.

"Wow, Professor, look at this clock tower!" Luke exclaimed, breaking the awkward silence that had followed when Percy had left.

"Yes, that clock tower is rather worse for the wear," Hershel said. "Speaking of clocks, I've got just the puzzle for you! Admittedly, it concerns a more modern type of clock, but mind that minor detail."

I knew what this puzzle was, because Hershel had given it to me before. It had been the hardest one I'd done, and it took me forever, but I had finally gotten the answer cracked down.

"Imagine a digital clock," Hershel began to explain, "How many times will the clock display three or more of the same number in a row over the course of one day? In case your wondering, the clock displays a twelve-hour time, not military."

Luke's eyes got really big and I laughed. "Yup, that's how I felt when I heard it, too." I turned to Hershel. "Hershel, do you think that the boy won't be able to solve it? I mean, it took me a while to -"

"Thirty-four," Luke said confidently and I froze.

What the hell?

Layton laughed. "Why, Luke, that's right. Great job, my boy. Sawyer, are you all right?"

"Just peachy," I grumbled angrily. "Can we please get to this damn castle?"

"Now, Sawyer…" But I cut Layton off by stomping to the right, the boys trailing behind me.

"Professor, look at that man standing in the street."

I stopped short, Layton and Luke gently bumping into me. Another fat man was standing there, nose like a branch, a little hat on his head, wearing what looked like beggar clothes, and glasses that hid his eyeballs.

"He's blocking the path up to Reinhold Manor!" I exclaimed, exasperated. I was so not in the mood. "How terribly rude!"

Hershel patted my shoulder comfortingly. "Shhh, Sawyer…Perhaps he'll move for us, but I have a feeling he has no intention of doing anything of the sort."

I sighed. We were on the Manor Road, a little walkway that stopped until it broke into a pathway that led into a lush and green area. If you looked up, you could see the very tops of the mansion; like the rest of this place, they're roofs were tan and the mansion was white.

Hershel approached the man first, Luke and I trailing behind.

"Hold up!" the man shouted loudly. "Never seen you three here before. What's a couple of fresh faces like yourselves doing here?"

"We're here by invitation of the Reinholds," Hershel said politely. Sometimes, I wondered how he could be a gentleman so good and not get angry of nothing. Although, I have seen that happen maybe once or twice, but it's usually never. "Now, if you'll excuse yes, we have business through the gate."

"Business with the Reinholds, izzat so? Something's strange here. Yeah, you're a fishy pair, mm. I don't trust you, that's for sure, but I'll let you pass if you can solve this riddle, see? Just to warn you, it's a tough one. Isn't gonna be easy, is it? No way, definitely not gonna be easy…" This guy rambles a lot.

"Just give him the riddle!" I commanded.

Hershel didn't try to stop me, he didn't say, "Sawyer, that isn't what a lady would do," but he did something very unlike himself. He stifled a laugh, Luke let out one, and the man huffed and began by pulling out a scale and some weights.

"Here we have eight small weights that all look the same. However, one of the weights in the group is slightly lighter than the rest. Using the this scale two times, you can find out which of these weights in lighter than the rest. So, which weight is the light one?"

Hershel took weights one, two, and three on one side, and four, five, and six on the other and pressed the button. The left side was lighter. He breathed out and took off all of them. Then, he placed one and two on one sides and weighed them. The left side was lighter again.

"It's weight one," Hershel answered and the man's eyes went wide. "Because after you weigh all of them at one time, then the puzzle gets very simple."

"Hey, not half bad," the man said to Hershel, eyes still wide. "Pretty sharp lot, aren't ya? A lot of good sharp apples, the three of you."

"So," I said, "have we satisfied you? May we please pass now?"

"'Course you can pass," he said and I breathed out a sigh of relief. "Move along! And you better make sure to give my regards to Lady Dahlia."

He gave a curt nod and a small smile and then went back out to the plaza. Finally, we moved into the thick and green area. We were in the manor border and it was pretty. A flowing river was there, along with a boat tied, flowers and things bloomed up, and the massive mansion was just up the pathway.

"So pretty," I murmured, gazing around.

"I know," Hershel muttered back, looking directly at me. Why was he staring at me like that? And it was with that intense gaze again. Not that I minded, of course.

Then, of course, we had to be stopped again. This time, it was a tall and thin man, with purple lips and black hair neatly combed. He wore a maroon suits and brown snappy shoes. He was hunched over and seemed to have an air of creepiness about him.

"And just who might you be?" he asked as he sauntered over to us. How rude, he didn't even say hi or anything.

"My name is Layton, and this is my best friend, Sawyer, and my assistant, Luke. We received an invitation to visit Reinhold Manor," Hershel explained. Oh, so I'm only the 'best friend.' It hurt my feelings a little and I scowled.

"Ah, yes, yes." And he started laughing. This guy was really starting to creep me out and I gave a look at Hershel, who wrapped an arm around me. "We've all been expecting you, Professor Layton, Sawyer, and Luke. But," he laughed again, "you'll have to excuse my skepticism. Can't trust anyone these days, you know. For all I know, you could be just another hoo-hoo-hooligan in a top hat." More laughter. "So, how do I know you're the real Layton?"

Luke tugged us by our shirts and we went into a little circle, the guy laughing and talking to himself.

"Did you hear that, Professor?" Luke said, scowling like me. "The nerve of this fellow!"

"I agree," I voiced up, "not to mention he's got a few screws loose."

"Surely you aren't going to go through with this after an insult like that!"

We looked at Hershel expectantly, but I knew the chances were slim that he would actually leave because of this insult.

"Now, now. Sawyer, Luke, settle down." He gave us each a pat on the head, his hand lingering longer on mine, before he turned back to the man. "Sir, are you saying that you'd like to test me to see if I am the real Professor Layton?"

"Precisely, Professor 'Layton.' Now, if you don't mind, would you please solve this puzzle for me?"

"I can't believe he's doing this," Luke whispered and I nodded vigorously.

"Imagine three wolves and three chicks on one side of the river," he started, "and one raft to transport them onto the other side. Get the three wolves and three chucks to the other side of the river while obeying the following conditions. No more than two animals can ride the raft at the same time. There must be at least one animal on the raft in order for it to move. And if more wolves than chicks stay on either side of the river, the wolves will eat the chicks, and you'll have to start over."

Hershel sighed and began to speak, processing the information. "Move two wolves to the right. Bring one wolf back. Transport two wolves to the right. Then, move another wolf back. Bring two chicks to the right. Shift one wolf and a chick back. Move two chicks to the right. Transport the one wolf back with the other wolves. Move two wolves to the other side. Move one wolf back to the left. Then, bring the last two back to the right to solve it."

Luke and I gaped while Crazy Man laughed.

"Do excuse my earlier rudeness! Let me show you to the manor. Everyone's waiting for you."

"Everyone?" Hershel asked uncertainly. "I was under the impression that Lady Dahlia was the only person expecting me - us."

"Right this way, please."

As we crossed the river in the tiny boat, Luke saw more flowers, prettier then the last, and exclaimed:

"Wow, look as those. They sure are gorgeous!"

"Indeed they are," Hershel commented, looking at me again and I sent him a confused look. "I'm sure someone put a lot of work into raising them. Oh, that reminds me…Would you like to hear a puzzle about raising flowers?"

"You bet!" Luke and I said simultaneously. "Let's hear it," I added, giggling.

"Alfred and Roland have been hired by a farm to sow flower seeds," Hershel started. "They've been assigned a ten-acre plot of land and split it in half, so they can work independently. Roland starts from the east and Alfred from the west.

"Alfred can plow the land at a rate of twenty minutes per acre. Roland takes forty minutes to plow, but sows seeds at three times the speed of Alfred. If sowing deeds on the ten-acre plot pays a hundred dollars, how much of that money should go to Roland?"

Ugh, a maths puzzle. I've always hated my maths. But, he did say something about splitting in half and working independently so,

"The answer is fifty dollars," I told Hershel with a smile. Ha, take that Luke!

"Correct, good think, Sawyer." And he kissed my forehead, smiling and I closed my eyes, relishing the feeling. He's done it before, but I've never really relished the feeling until now.

Luke was still too deep in thought to notice and snigger or laugh.

Finally, we made it across the stream, Crazy Guy muttered and laughing to himself, and then we stopped short. The manor was huge!

"Is THIS the manor, Professor?" Luke asked in disbelief.

I just now noticed how Luke had really grown. I was always a short girl, hey, I only came just under Hershel's chin, and Luke was almost about to pass me.

The gate's creaked open by the force of Crazy Guy and low and behold, the manor stood in all its glory. It was absolutely gorgeous and breathtaking.

"It's positively gigantic! Just look at the size of it!" Luke proclaimed excitingly.

"It certainly seems like we've come to the right place," Hershel commented, gazing up at it.

Looking at each other, we nodded with happy smiles and entered, sealing our fate forever in this village.


	3. Chapter Two: The Fugitive Feline

Oodles of love and thanks and cupcakes to: **kt2209, Fable Wright, porkehXx, and Neko **for reviewing. Keep it coming, guys!

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><p><em>- Chapter Two -<em>

_The Fugitive Feline_

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><p>I can only remember one thing I thought when I entered the mansion.<p>

_Holy shit_.

A large crystal chandelier hung low on the ceiling. The walls were painted a fantastic peach-red color and portraits hung on the walls. Thin, see-through curtains draped across the ceiling and the large, floor-to-ceiling windows. It held the air of elegance and class, and was definitely different than my tiny flat in London.

A short man came over, dressed in a suit and bowtie, wearing glasses and a somber expression. He had a thick and furry gray beard, signaling that he looked a bit old and worn-for-wear.

"Welcome to Reinhold Manor," he greeted formerly. "Thank you for coming. I am Matthew, butler and servant to the Reinhold family. Everyone is waiting for you upstairs. Ah, before you go up, I have a message from Lady Dahlia. She has requested that you take a look at this puzzle. Please do not be taken aback. Madam has the strangest sense of propriety sometimes. Here you are, Professor Layton."

I crossed my arms and huffed; it's been awhile since I did a puzzle. The butler handed Hershel matches in the shape of a dog. Then, he began to explain:

"The matches are arranged in the shape of a dog -" No, duh. "- and this poor guy was just minding his own business when a car came barreling down the road and ran over him. Move two matches to change the picture so that it shows the dog after the accident. All puzzles are a matter of perspective, so don't assume that you'll be looking at the dog from the side by the time you're finished with this one."

Very challenging. I saw Hershel's tongue peek from the corner of his mouth and I smiled. This meant he was thinking hard; he's been doing it since we were younger. He took the two inner matches and placed them on the top of the dog, making it looked sprawled out on his hand.

"See, it made it look like the car flatted him," Hershel explained.

"Aw, poor doggy," I muttered sadly.

"That's absolutely correct. My commendations, sir," Matthew said. "Again, I do apologize for the strangeness of the request. Now, please walk this way. We mustn't keep Lady Dahlia and company waiting."

As we were walking up the stairs, we saw the most strange paintings of people.

"Professor, Sawyer, look at these paintings on the wall here," Luke said, pointing them out.

One was of a big man, dressed in a suit, a beard and thick brown mustache laying on his fat and round face. His eyes were shut and he held the air of superior, and you could feel it, even in the painting.

"It's a very nice portrait, isn't it?" Luke said. "I bet it's the late Baron Reinhold pictured there."

The next one, though, puzzled of. It was of a girl, about Luke's age, with pretty red-brown hair pulled into an elegant ponytail and wearing a beautiful dress. She was a gorgeous girl, especially compared to me.

I never thought of myself as pretty or gorgeous, but mainly only cute. I was short and very slender and petite, my hair coming in thick and bushy waves, colored a caramel brown-blonde, and my eyes were a bit too large, colored a magnificent shade of ocean blue. My nose was a button, my lips a bit too thin, and my face more of a rounded heart-shape, but all in all, I looked all right.

Nothing like this pretty girl, though.

"But what about this one, Professor?" Luke asked. "Who could this pretty girl be?" I noticed how Luke blushed after he said this. Aw, Little Lukie's got a crush on a painting.

"The two portraits are next to each other, so they're likely family," Hershel explained. "She's probably the baron's daughter."

"That's exactly right, sir," Matthew said suddenly, and we halted at the foot of the stairs. "You are looking at a portrait of Flora, the late baron's daughter. Pardon me for asking, but I couldn't help but noticing your keen interest in art. Would you care to take this old frame with you? It used to hold the most wonderful painting. However, now all that's left of it is this small scrap."

"Of course," I said, smiling. I slipped the frame and scrap into a secret pocket in my pocketbook (mind you, my purse is quite large), and closed it back up securely.

"Look at those books!" I exclaimed, heading over the bookcase. Books were my true love; I would marry them if they were breathing and able to produce children.

"Hmm, yes," Hershel said, smiling as he placed his hand on my thin and small shoulder. "Bookshelves seem to line every wall in this estate. The baron must have been quite the avid reader. It's important to keep your mind sharp, Sawyer, so I've got a puzzle for you."

"Yay! Tell me, Hershel," I commanded him.

"As you wish," he smiled. "All right, here's a quick and easy one. The first letter of the alphabet is A, and the letter B comes afterwards. However, the letter you need to worry about is the last one. What's the last letter of the alphabet? Here a hint: it isn't Z."

I squinted my eyes. The last letter of the alphabet is…_A-L-P-H-A-B-E…T! _The last letter of alphabet was T.

"The answer is T, Hershel," I answered with a smirk. "You've got to do better than that, honey."

He rolled his eyes but threw me a magnificent smile.

Finally, we reached the top of the stairs and entered a door into a parlor on the left side of the hall.

A regal woman stepped out. She was tall, thin, and beautiful. Her hair was blonde, but graying, and her eyes were a pretty blue like mine. She wore an elegant pink dress with a red shawl and had the smoothest voice that held sophistication. She stepped in her high-heeled shoes and paused in front of Hershel.

"You must be Professor Layton," she said, "and his company." She threw us a nasty glance before turning back to him. "It's an honor to make your acquaintance."

"Oh, no," Hershel said politely, taking her hand in his. "The pleasure all mine."

In one arm was a cat, pearly white and having a purple bow wrapped around her, was sniffing angrily. The cat seemed like she would be very high-mantinence.

Suddenly, a large and loud crash sounded that shook the whole mansion, and I held onto the back of Hershel's muddy brown jacket for support. When it stopped, the cat effortlessly leaped out of Lady Dahlia's hands and swept out of the room, ignoring the calls from her owner and the other people in the room.

In the back were two boys. One was thin and tall, having rounded glasses and wearing a suit, he had the smuggest smirk on, and the other was shorter and very fat, dapping at sweat dripping down his face. Matthew the butler looked horrified.

"Honestly, why am I constantly surrounded by incompetence?" Lady Dahlia asked angrily. "This is a disaster!"

"Whatever is the matter?" Hershel asked kindly. I wanted to slap her.

She placed a hand over her mouth, looking horrified. "Oh, this is simply terrible! My dear sweet baby, my Claudia!"

"Your…Claudia?" I asked curiously, still holding onto Layton. An aftershock shook the house slightly, but nothing like before.

"Sweet, sweet Claudia! My little honeykins! My smoochie pie! My baby! Matthew! Matthew!"

She began to speak rapidly to the butler in one corner of the room.

The smuggy guy came over to us and pushed his glasses up with a long finger. His hair stick out like a board and was brown and he had the matching nose. His suit was tanned, with hints of orange and red. His shoes were red, too.

"The name's Simon," he said. "I'm Baron Reinhold's nephew. My father is the little brother of Gordon there." He pointed to the larger man dapping his face. "Or rather, he WAS until he 'kicked the bucket,' as they say."

"Hmm," we all said, to show we were listening.

"But I digress," he went on. "So, you're the famous Professor Layton? Hmph. I thought you'd have more presence…and better company." He eyed us over and gave us the nastiest smirk.

I felt my blood boiling. "Excuse me you little bast -"

Hershel clamped his hand over my mouth and drew me behind him. "Erm, well yes, but this is my best friend and my apprentice so…"

"Yes, well, never mind that. I take it you won't mind if I throw a puzzle your way. It shouldn't prove difficult for a man of your ability…Yes," he added, smirking slightly, "if you're as good as they say, this shouldn't amount to much more than a distraction."

He flashed Hershel a piece of paper and I look over his shoulder, standing on my tip-toes, to see it. It had a quarter of a circle, with a right angle box on one corner, and a lopsided triangle in the middle, having three points: A, C, D. At the bottom, it had two things: B = five inches, C = five inches.

"As shown on this diagram, you have one-fourth of a circle. Within this circle is rectangle ABCD, which touches the edge of the circle at point D," Simon explained lazily. "Assuming that point B is located at the center of the circle, how long is diagonal line AC?"

I furrowed my eyebrows; like I said, math puzzles were a no-no for me, unless they were somewhat simple. And this wasn't.

"Ten inches," Hershel said confidently. "Line AC is ten inches because it is the same length as diagonal line BD."

Simon looked pleasantly surprised; take that, asshole! His smirk fell into a deep frown.

"It appears that you're the real deal, Professor. I apologize for doubted you there, and insulting your…friends. It seems you've quite the mind for puzzles." Finally, his smirk returned. "A lesser man than myself might consider jealousy to be a reasonable response." His face returned passive. "Anyhow, you're not going to get a word out of Dahlia right now, so you might as well do as she says."

He returned back to skulking in his corner.

I gazed around the room; it was a simple parlor with decadent furnishings that seemed to cost a fortune. The rug was the prettiest patterns, the sofa looking like it was made of blue velvet, and a gorgeous chandelier hung low in the ceiling over the fat boy.

"…Oh you're just useless, aren't you!" Lady Dahlia screeched over a unhappy Matthew.

"Oh, dear," I muttered to my boys. "She doesn't sound too happy."

"Professor, you didn't see which way my baby ran off to, did you?"

"Your…baby, madam?" Hershel asked dubiously. "If you are referring to that white cat, I saw it run out that door a moment ago."

"What?" she screeched loudly. "And you simply stood there and let her escape?"

"Lady," I said angrily, shoving Hershel off to the side. He knew better than to just stand there, because when my temper showed, it was hard to stop me. "Listen here. It is a dumbass cat! Grow up, get an actual baby, for God's sake! Besides, I bet that cat is tired of your unnecessary smothering and your horrible bitc -"

"You bitch!" Dahlia yelled, and we were in each other's faces. "She is NOT just a cat! She has a name, and that name is Claudia Reinhold! She is a delicate flower, and she is simply a mess when I'm not close by to comfort her!" She sneered and spat in my face before calling the butler. "Matthew! I need you to find my baby Claudia!"

Hershel drew me back and rubbed small circles in my back. "Shhh," he murmured in my ear. Luke stood in shock at my outburst and the other boys remained quiet.

"Madam, about this little inheritance problem of yours -" Hershel began, trying to change the subject, but she cut him off, furious.

"That can wait! Can't you see that we have a more pressing concern on our hands at the moment? You could have stopped her and you didn't! So you have a responsibility to find Claudia and bring her back!"

I was about to say something when Luke spoke up,

"Hmph! Sending the professor off to find a silly old cat! The nerve! Who do you think you are?"

Hershel laughed, still holding a grip on me. "Oh, it's fine Luke, Sawyer. Besides, Lady Dahlia does have a point. It does seem we let Claudia run off." Hershel turned back to Lady Dahlia. "Madam, if you'll excuse us, we have a cat to track down."

"Thank you," she said, at least sounding grateful. "And please, hurry! My Claudia is such a delicate flower, even the coarse outdoor air might prove too much for her!"

I sighed heavily as we walked down the magnificent hallway.

"Luke," Hershel said, "go on down. I'm going to talk to Sawyer for a few minutes, okay?"

And here comes the lecture…

Surprisingly, he pushed me against the wall and took his fingers and titled my face up to meet his gorgeous dark eyes. I gulped and felt my face heat up as he staring at me with worried and intense eyes.

"Are you all right, Sawyer?" he questioned, looking over my face.

"Of course, Hershel…C'mon, we've got a cat to find."

Reluctantly, he let me go and we walked down the stairs to where Luke was waiting at the foot and Matthew was standing by the door nervously. We approached him.

"I'm terribly sorry, Professor," he sputtered out. "I will personally search the manor and the estate grounds. I feel dreadful asking, but would you mind taking a quick look about the town and see if Claudia is there?"

"Don't give it a second thought, my good man. We're on the chase."

I nodded. "And we'll bring that kitty-cat back! Swear on our hearts!" Even though I honestly didn't want to help that batty woman.

Matthew didn't look hopeful. His downcast expression showed as he walked, hunched over, up the stairs and disappeared out of sight, and then Lady Dahlia's sobs wrenched throughout the manor.

"Erm, let's hurry, yes?"

We let ourselves out and stepped onto the neat cobblestone path, lined with hedges and trees rustling in the winds. It was mid-afternoon, about four o' clock. The sky was a dusty blue with hints of orange and thin wispy clouds shown. A bit of wind picked up and I drew my black pea coat closer around me.

"Look, over there!" Luke yelled and we saw a flash of white sitting at the edge of the path. It also had a violet ribbon wrapped around its neck; Claudia! "Professor, Sawyer, there she is!" Because of Luke's yelling, Claudia noticed us, jumped over the small river and scrambled out of sight.

"Way to go, Luke," I said sarcastically.

He glared and huffed. "Drat! She ran off…"

"I wonder how?"

"Hush, both of you," Hershel commanded. "We can't stop now. Let's give a chase."

We walked down the pathway and stopped at the boats, where Crazy Guy was and we stepped inside the boat while he lazily pushed the oars.

"How are you, Mr.…" Hershel said, trying to break the awkward silence that surrounded us.

"Please, a call me Ramon," and he started to laugh uncontrollable. "Can I be of some assistance?"

"As a matter of fact, yes, Ramon." We'd now stepped out of the boat and all three of us were turned to Ramon. "Lady Dahlia's cat slipped out of the house. Have you seen her about?"

"Do you mean dear Claudia? I think I saw her pass through here and run into town a few moments ago."

Luke pulled on the edge of my ripped and off-the-shoulder white shirt (with a pretty heart on it) and motioned me to lean down. I didn't have much distance to lean down, but he cupped my ear with his hand and whispered, "If that's the case, I sure wish he'd bothered to catch her before she ran away."

I nodded slowly and whispered, "I know. It'd would've made it a lot easier."

Hershel motioned for us to follow him and Luke and I trailed behind. That's how it usually was, because Hershel was always a natural-born leader.

We walked back down to the Manor Road where the rude guy who didn't let us pass was now standing there, swaying a bit on his feet and I wondered if he was okay. Hershel approached him and we stayed behind a bit.

"You need something?" Marco asked rudely, shifting his gaze on us. "You DO, don't you! Yep, I could see it on YOUR -" He pointed to me "- face. An open book is what you are."

"Um…"

"Excuse me," Hershel interrupted. "But you didn't happen to see Lady Dahlia's cat come through here a moment ago, did you?"

"Ah, that fluffy white killer, yeah? I saw her run off to the town square, right thataway." And he pointed to where the clock tower was.

"I see," Hershel said politely, smiling. "Thank you."

"Think nothing of it, buddy," he said. "If only all questions were that easy to answer." I agree. "Well then, I'll be off now."

He gave a cheerful wave and Luke and I looked at each other in disbelief, Hershel giving us curious glances.

"Who'd have thought he'd turn out to be such a nice guy?" Luke stated and I agreed in disbelief. "Shall we head for the town square then?"

"Indeed, let's be off."

"Wait!" I called to my boys, who both turned to look at me. "Let's take a look at what's behind the blue door. She could be in here - after all, he didn't _really _know that Claudia ran for the Town Square. And look see, it's open just a crack. Care to take a peek, boys?"

Hershel looked a bit apprehensive but Luke was already to go.

I pushed to door open carefully and we entered. It seemed to be a general store, small and compact, and we were all squashed together. There were loaves of bread, spices on a cabinets, a single wax candle was on the counter, and beyond the counter it looked to be a kitchen with meat strung on a string.

"It's awfully tight," Hershel commented as I was pressed flush against him. Luke wriggled around and stood in front of the large storage unit with the bread and spices on it.

"It smells amazing, though," I replied, huffing dramatically. It smelled of old wood and dust, herbs and a mixture of things. It smelled like Hershel and I drunk in every scent.

Hershel gently nudged my aside and went over to two chairs folded together. They were rather plain but charming, and Hershel thought so.

"There's something I find very charming about this chair," he commented, running a finger over and collecting dust.

"Mmmm, yes," I told him sarcastically. "Because dusty chairs are the next big thing."

"Of course they are," Hershel said, not paying attention to my tone, making me huff. Stupid boy, all boys - men - are stupid. Hershel moved until he stopped in front of the waxy, large, and very definable candle. "Look here. This extinguished candle has reminded me of a simply wonderful puzzle. Care to give it a go, Sawyer?"

"I guess…"

He looked momentarily confused before he explained: "Ten candles sit burning in a dining room. A strong breeze blows in through an open window and extinguishes two of them. Checking back in on the candles later, you see that one more candle has gone out. To make sure no more flames go out, you shut the window. Assuming the wind doesn't blow out any more candles, how many candles do you have left in the end?"

"Three," I answered immediately, grinning a dazzling grin that shows my sparkling and pearly whites. "Because the seven that didn't blow out will melt, leaving the three that did get extinguished."

"Excellent work, Sawyer!" Hershel congratulated, throwing me his own dazzling smile. "Sometimes, it's important to consider the obvious, too."

"Yup, you've told me already."

"Well," Luke said, coming up behind us. "I don't think there's anything in here. Let's head out."

We walked back out and headed down to the left, back into the plaza. However, we were stopped by the strange man from before, the fat one who'd let the bridge down for us.

"Hey! You three! Help me out here, would you? I'm in a real pickle."

"What seems to be the problem, sir?" Hershel asked, coming in front of him, Luke and I trailing a bit behind, as usual.

"Some knucklehead went and raised the bridge while I was on break. Then, as if that wasn't bad enough, that chowderhead made off with my only bridge crank."

"Oh, no!" I gasped, worried. "So, you mean to say…"

"Hrmph! You got it, missy. Until that thing shows up, no one is getting in or out of town. I'm still looking for the blasted crank, but I'm seeing too much red to get anything done! Hrmph! What kind of punk pulls a prank like this, anyhow? Oh, yeah!" He snapped his fingers. "I found this doodad in the street when I was out looking for my crank. Got any idea what it is?" He handed Hershel something that looked like a tail, with a round red thing at the end.

"Um, sure, we'll take it," I said happily, stuffing it inside one of my large pockets. "We'll keep a eye out for that crank, sir."

He nodded and huffed and stalked off, muttering something about "killing" and "torturing" and "damn kids." I shivered.

"Look, it's Claudia!" Luke exclaimed.

"Hmm, fluffy, check! Purple bow, check! Sullen expression, check! It has to be Claudia!" I added, grinning madly.

Hershel gave me a look of disapproval, but smiled nonetheless. "Good eye, you two. Now that we've located her, the question at hand is how to go about catching her."

Luke grinned. "Leave this one to me!"

"Oh, yeah!" I exclaimed. "I forgot that you had a way with animals. Go on then, Luke. Tame that fluffy killer." I hid behind Hershel for added effect. "You'll protect me, Hershel, right?"

He looked slightly embarrassed and miffed, but gave me another smile. "Always." Oh, crap, my turn to blush. Did he mean it? Or was he just playing me? And why am I having an internal battle with myself?

Luke went up and crouched down carefully, holding his arms out and cooed, "here, Claudia. Here girl!"

She didn't look happy. All of a sudden, she let out a horrible screech and swiped her claws across Luke's cheek and dashed off. Luke cried out in pain as blood began to seep through the wound.

"Oh my God! Luke!" I pulled out a handkerchief from my pocketbook and ran up to him. "Here!" I pressed it sharply against the wound, and although he hissed in pain, he stayed quiet. "Are you all right?" Hershel came forward and we both said this at the same time, blushing.

"I'm sorry I wasn't much help," Luke said sadly. "She's far feistier than I imagined."

"Oh, Luke, I'm just happy your all right," I said, pulling him back. "Hmm, thank God it's only thin scratches. Here lemme put some Band-Aids on it." I pulled out some royal blue ones and taped them on the wound. "There you go." I hugged Luke and both smiled at me.

"Thank you," Luke said.

"Of course! I have to take care of my boys," I proclaimed loudly as I nudged them both. "Now, let's go ask this freaky dude where she went." I pointed to a man who was yawning and wore some strange green-gray coat and maroon slacks.

He yawned loudly as we approached him. "Hmm?"

"Um, excuse me, but did you happen to see a cat run past here or anything?" I asked him politely.

"Yeah, I saw that cat. She almost scratched your eye out!" He pointed toward Luke's injury.

"Yes, well, we were wondering if you could help us catch her possibly?"

"Help catch her, you say?" No, that's not at all what I said. Yes, you dummy. "Thanks, but no thanks. I like living. Did you SEE that ferocious beast? I'm not going anywhere near her."

"Could you at least tell us which direction she ran off?" I asked, rather rudely. Hershel reprimanded me quietly.

He gave the biggest grin ever, showing large and fake-looking teeth. It kind of scared me a bit. "I saw that killer scurry off westward. She had fangs the size of daggers."

"Uhm, thanks," Hershel said.

Luke and I marched on ahead, but when we didn't see Hershel move, we glanced back at him.

"We ought to visit the local inn and see if we can't procure some rooms for the night, eh? It is almost dusk, after all."

It was true, the sun was setting low in the sky.

"Sounds good to us, Professor," Luke said.

"I was certain I saw an inn near the entrance to the village, just south of the plaza we're in," Hershel explained. "Let's head over there right now and see if we can't set up some lodging."

"Let's get going!" I shouted, smiling as we trekked back to the village entrance, where that old lady had made those oh-so embarrassing comments. I blushed at the thought but said nothing.

The creepy guy with the thick mustache, named Stachen, if I remembered correctly, was still there, giggling to himself as he eyed me back up and down. He approached us and I groaned inwardly. I saw Hershel tense up.

"So how goes things?" He asked, winking at me and eyeing me up and down again. "Learning the ins and outs of St. Mystere, are you? So, how about a puzzle for you, babe, to see how…er…_smart _you are." He licked his lips and I cringed. "Just a little practice, okay?" And he flashed me the scariest grin. Hershel's face contorted anger and Luke looked a little creeped out, but neither boys said nothing.

"Three of the four images shown below are the exact same picture rotated in a variety of ways." He flashed a picture showing different cards and different positions in which they were laid out. "Can you find the odd one out, baby?"

I examined them quickly. "It's D," I said effortlessly. "Because if you turn it, it'll look just like A."

He started laughing loudly. "You are certainly a very _clever _girl. I like that. _A lot._" I shivered and Hershel drew me closer to him, glaring at the man. "Seems like that training paid off and _feel free _to _thank me_ in anyway you'd like, babe." He winked and licked his lips again. "Well, I'll see you 'round, baby."

Hershel growled and angrily jerked Luke and I away and slammed us into the inn.

None of us spoke a word as we entered. It was a nice-looking inn, with nice sofas and what looked to be a dining area in the back, behind some doors. A staircase led upwards, probably to the rooms. A fat woman sat at a desk, her hair short and parted and if it wasn't for the salmon-colored shirt or pearls, I would've thought she was a man.

"Oh, hello there!" she said, noting us. "Welcome to the inn at St. Mystere. We're the only inn in the town, you know. You see, visitors to our little village are quite rare."

Hershel smiled, but still looked a bit angry. Well, only in his eyes. "Ah, good day, madam. We seek lodging for the night. Do you have any open rooms we could rent?"

She looked a bit disappointed. "Oh, my stars, what terrible timing. We're currently remodeling all of our guest rooms." What the hell? Who does that? "The only rooms left are in the attic, but if you don't mind that, I'll make sure you're VERY comfortable. I do hope you'll stay with us. It's been a while since a fine gentleman, a beautiful lady, and such a cute lad such as yourselves stayed with us. The rooms are, ahem, not very big, and we've only two, but I'll make sure they sparkle. Can you come back in a bit? Oh, and I'll do my best to get two normal rooms ready for you as soon as possible."

"Oh, thank you," Hershel said politely. Was there a hint of nervousness in his tone? "But you needn't trouble yourself on my - our - behalf. As long as we have a bed to sleep in, we're satisfied. Right you two?"

I forced a smile. "Of course." But I really did want a pretty and nice room.

"Now, then, you two are going to be sharing a room, yes?" she asked Hershel and I and before I could say "no" Hershel nodded. "And the little one has a room to himself…All right then, come back and you'll find the rooms spick and span, I'll even drop the nightly rate."

"Thank you so much," Hershel said and he ushered us out.

"We'd better get back to searching for Claudia," Luke commented.

"Wait, we have to check on the Laytonmobile!" I called out to the two boys who were beginning to walk back to the plaza. "I mean, I hope it's still there! Let's have a look!"

We went back to the town's entrance.

"Oh! The drawbridge is back up!"

"That bridge appears to be the only way out of St. Mystere," Hershel commented. "It seems that we're confined to this town for the moment."

"Oh, my…" I gasped. "And to make matters worse, it seems no one can find the crank to lower the bridge."

"Well then, all we can do is wait. Let us attend to our business in the village."

"Look, the Laytonmobile!" I shouted, pointing to the cute red car sitting on the other side of the river. "Looks like the car couldn't even make it across the river, huh? I do hope it's all right…"

"But of course. Much as I adore the contraption, it is just a car, after all," Hershel said.

I slapped his arm. "How dare you insult the Laytonmobile? We might as well call it the Masonmobile…hey, that's pretty catchy!"

Both my boys chuckled but Hershel put his hand on the small of my back and guided me back to the entrance where the inn was. Then, we went back to the plaza.

Then, we went westward. This area looked like where the poor people resided. Broken bottles and other trashy things littered the grounds, houses were lining the road, looking quite run-down and sunken in, and in the distance, there seemed to be a ferris wheel peeking from over the treetops. A rounded man was shouting out obscurities, and waving his fist around and an old woman was pointing to him and laughing, holding something in her hand.

Hershel approached the old woman that was hunching over. "I'm sorry to trouble you, madam, but have you seen a white cat run by?"

"A white cat, you say? Ah, yes, it ran over that way, toward the park," she said, pointing a frail and bony finger to the rusting gates in the distance. "And, may I ask, what are you planning on doing with it once you find it?"

"We're going to take it back to Lady Dahlia, ma'am," Hershel explained politely. "It's her cat, and she's asked us to bring it back to her."

The old woman let out a wheezy laugh. "And you're going to try and catch that cat bare-handed? Oh, good heavens! That's a bit naïve, don't you think? Listen here, cats love treats, so try luring it over with some food!"

"What do you suggest?" I asked her, smiling.

"I've got some old fish bones around here that I'm sure the little thing would go wild over. I'd be happy to give them to you if you solve this puzzle for me!" She thrusted a piece of paper with pigs and stakes in the ground. "Seven prizewinning pigs are lazing about in a pen. To make sure that the pigs don't fight with each other, you've decided to section off the pen with three ropes." She handed me a pencil. "Can you hitch the ropes up to some of the posts shown below and separate each pig from its neighbor? Remember, not even a snout or curly tail can sneak over each partition."

I thought deeply before making my marks. Afterwards, I double-checked. Yup, all separated. I handed the paper back to the old woman and she clapped her hands happily.

"I must say, I'm very impressed. Gorgeous and smart." Okay, I've been getting that a lot lately, why? "Here you go then, some fish bones, as I promised. Good luck with that cat." She handed me a pile of nasty-smelling fish bones and I grimaced and I gave them to Luke.

"Thank you, ma'am," but she just waved her hand and hobbled off to her home, I guessed.

A younger girl was now outside, seeming to have come out of the café. She was giggling to herself and looking at the furious man. She worse a beanie and had shoulder-length brown hair. She wore a skirt and long-sleeved shirt with boots.

"That guy gets so worked up that he turns red like a tomato," she commented to us, her voice nasally. I instantly disliked her. "He looks sooo dumb!"

"Mmmm," I said, and we passed her and came out of the project area.

Now, we were in front of the gate. It was a rusty one, with stone around it. A sign above it said, 'the park,' and was faded away. More broken bottles littered the area here. On the gate, it had a sign that said the hours: 'Reinhold Park, open: ten AM. Closed: five PM.' And Claudia was there, sitting there and grooming herself, looking very sullen yet smug. Damn cat.

"Guys, there she is!" I told the boys, who'd been surveying the broken bottles.

"Quickly then, Luke, use the fish bones!" Hershel commanded.

Luke bent down again and held out the bones in his hands, Hershel and I standing a bit far back. "Here, Claudia," he cooed softly. "Come here, girl."

She gave a questioning meow before leaping into Luke's arms. "We've done it, Professor!"

"Excellent. Now we can take her back to Reinhold Manor."

Little did we know that something awful had happened, and it was only going to be the beginning.


	4. Chapter Three: The Missig Servant Part 1

Oodles of thanks, love, and cupcakes to: **porkehXx, Glass cherry, cunningham0208487, and Neko **for reviewing! We're up to thirteen for three chapters, people! Thank you all so much! I love you!

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><p><em>- Chapter Three -<em>

_The Missing Servant_

_Part One_

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><p>When we entered the magnificent Reinhold Manor again, something was off. It was the air; it was so thick and the tension was so prominent that you could slice it with a kitchen knife. And it scared me. I huddled closer to Hershel, grabbing the end of his jacket. His hand went to my back and began to rub circles on it.<p>

"Something doesn't seem quite right, Professor," Luke commented, frowning.

The butler came bursting down the stairs, his eyes holding panic and his arms flailing about. "Pr-Pr-Professor! Oh, it's simply awful! Come quickly, please, all of you!"

"What's the matter, Matthew?" Hershel asked, drawing me closer. "If you're worried about the cat, we've brought her back safe and sound."

His arms stopped moving but he still remained a horrified expression, mixed in with somber. "Oh, well, Madam will be very happy to hear that." His face grew panicked again and his arms flailed about again. "But this is no time to worry about a cat! J-Just hurry upstairs! Right this way, please!"

We rushed up the stairs by two, me still holding onto his jacket as Hershel dragged me up with him carefully.

When we entered the parlor, everything was a mess. A tall and broad-shouldered man came up to us, having the thickest gray mustache I had ever seen. He was dressed very professional and looked like a lot of work, for a male.

"So, you're the famous Professor Layton, then?" he asked doubtfully. "The name's Chelmey, Inspector Chelmey. I'm the inspector on this case."

Hershel looked very confused. "Well, I'd hardly call it a case. If this is about Claudia, we've brought her back safe and sound."

Lady Dahlia, who was sitting on the sofa with a somber look, instantly brightened up at the mention of her cat. "Oh, Claudia, my baby! Mama missed you so much!" The cat meowed and hopped onto her lap, Dahlia stroking her silently.

"What's this cat doing here?" Chelmey shouted angrily. "Why on earth would you bring an animal into a crime scene? Have some sense!"

"Hey, you!" I said, furious, but still clutching Hershel's jacket. After all, this man was a bit intimidating. "We were out when this so-called crime took place and we don't know what the hell is going on, so if you could please inform us, we'd really appreciate it." Luke sniggered.

Chelmey closed his eyes and let out a breathy sigh. "There's been a murder, missy, Professor. A man was killed here!"

I let out an audible gasp and closed my eyes. Murder and death were two things that never settled well with me. Hershel knew this, and drew me closer, wrapping his arm around me now as I settled into his side. Luke gave a horrified gasp and looked at us in disbelief.

"What?" Hershel exclaimed, baffled. "Who was murdered?"

"The victim was a resident of this address, one Simon Reinhold," Chelmey explained unhappily.

"Simon was…" I gasped, trailing off. It had been that smug guy! I couldn't believe it; murdered by cold hard blood!

"Approximately two hours ago, I received a report that a man had collapsed at Reinhold Manor," Chelmey explained. "Upon arrival at the scene, it was apparent to me that Simon was already dead."

"I see," Hershel said grimly. He looked down at me, for I had buried my head into his side, before looking back up at Chelmey. "And the cause of death?" I heard him ask.

"I'm currently conducting an investigation to look into it," Chelmey said, and I peeked back up at him. "I'll just let you know right now, Mr. Layton, I'm looking at you as a potential suspect as well. The rest of the details concerning this investigation are classified."

I got angered when he said Hershel is counted as a suspect, and so did Luke, but we both kept our mouths shut.

"Speaking of the details," Hershel said, "who placed the call to the authorities?"

"Are your ears clogged? You deaf? Didn't I just tell you those details are classified? Hmm?"

I glared at him and he sneered at me.

"All right, everyone. I'll be taking statements from each of you in the other room. Come in one by one, please. And let me make this clear. Under no circumstances is anyone to leave until I've talking to everyone."

And we were shoved back out into the parlor, where the butler was currently standing, sniffing and huffing occasionally and the fatter man, named Gordon, was wiping his eyes with his handkerchief and heaving great, but silent, sobs.

"Imagine…" he began to speak up and we all looked at him. "A murder in this very house. It brings chills to my spine, it does. You're a detective, are you not?" he asked the last question addressed to Hershel. "Do hurry and find the monster that did this."

"My good sir, I am no detective," Hershel said politely. "But I agree that your concerns are certainly warranted. No one is safe until that criminal is behind bars." And he huddled me closer to him unconsciously.

"My sentiments exactly. I just don't understand it. Simon could be snide, but he wasn't the type to be hated. If the criminal was after my brother's fortune, I could very well be this fiend's next target!"

"You have a point," Hershel commented. "If we narrow the motive to stealing the Reinhold fortune, there are a few potential suspects…"

Suddenly, Gordon's meaty hand went flying in the air. "Good gracious, you don't think I'D do something like this now? Simon and I got along very well, I'll have you know. He wasn't very close with Augustus, though. Oh, please do help find his killer! I beg of you! I wouldn't do anything like this!"

Hershel nodded shortly. "Yes, of course I will. It appears that I am a suspect as well - along with my good friends - so we'll find out everything we can."

Gordon let out a huge sob.

Hershel's lips went thin and he led me over to Matthew, Luke sitting on the velvet sofa.

"Matthew, did you notice any strange characters around the manor at the time of the incident?" Hershel asked curiously. I was still pressed into his side, and if I tried to move, he would press me closer. Strange…

Matthew's eyes lowered behind his glasses. "Not a soul, I'm afraid. I-I didn't even know about Master Simon until Inspector Chelmey showed up."

"And where is Simon's body now?"

"I didn't see this, but I was told that the inspector carried the body out shortly after arriving."

Hershel frowned. "I see…Well, it looks like for the moment we are without a lead on this case."

Matthew seemed to peak up a bit. "Ah, but you know, I found this in the room where Master Simon's body was discovered." In his hands was a tiny cog, the middle inscribed with a hammer and a wrench. Gasping, I took it into my own hand. It was tiny, and just fit in the palm.

"What is this?" Hershel asked Matthew, touching the cog.

"I'm sorry to say I have no idea, but I thought it might be a clue, so I made sure to hold onto it," Matthew said.

Hershel took it from me and held it up in-between his fingers. "Amazing! It's a cog so small that one could search the room and miss it. Look, it has an engraving."

"Yup, I already saw that, Hershel," I whispered to him and he looked down at me. "What could this mean?"

"A small cog?" Matthew asked before Hershel could reply to my question. "Now that you mention it, I know a puzzle about an object that almost fits that description."

"What?" I hissed loudly, causing the others to look at me. "Are you joking? A puzzle? At a _time like this_? Are you _crazy_?"

Everyone in the room flinched. Hershel drew me back again and made soothing noises while Luke apologized for me and did the puzzle. In Matthew's hand was an eight-dotted star-like thing and I knew which puzzle this was. It was one of those reverse mirror type things, and I saw Luke quickly finding the answer.

"…I am wondering why you gave us this cog, though?" I heard Hershel speak, and it took me a moment to realize that I'd been zoning out. I was tired and hungry and I just wanted to go to sleep at the inn.

"I believe you're a good man, Professor," Matthew answered easily with a smile. "I'm confident you will out the whole of this puzzle together."

"I appreciate the vote of confidence, Matthew," Hershel smiled back happily.

Chelmey came back in, towering and very intimidating still, hunched over with his hands in his pockets and holding a very scowling expression. Hershel and I sat down with Luke on the sofa, him still holding onto me. Right now, my nerves were shot. That wasn't a good thing.

"Is this everyone who was present at the site of the crime?" Chelmey barked in a rough voice.

Matthew pepped up quietly. "I believe we are missing Ramon, sir."

Crazy Guy was missing? I knew it; he wasn't normal, he was crazy, so he must've killed Simon. Why else wouldn't he be here?

Dahlia's face contorted worry as she cried out, "Ramon! Where is he and what on earth is he doing? Matthew, fetch Ramon at once!"

Matthew's eyes went downcast as he delivered some interesting news. "To be honest, Madam, thinking on it, I've not seen Ramon for a few hours now."

Chelmey gritted his teeth angrily, a temple pulsing on his face. "What? Don't tell me he was taken as well!…No, hold on a moment. He's a suspect, too. Perhaps he fled the scene of his crime."

Dahlia was frantic. "Where could he be at a time like this? What if the murderer got Ramon too?" She bustled into the next room unnoticed while Chelmey let out a loud huff. He then went off to look about the manor.

"Hey, Matthew!" I called for the stout butler. "Could you see if Lady Dahlia can take visitors?"

"Of course, one moment." And he came back with the all-clear. Nodding to my boys, we entered the adjoining room.

It appeared to be Lady Dahlia's room. The curtains were drawn, little orange light peering through, there was a desk with flowers and things scattered, a table in the middle with a vase full of flowers, a bed in the corner, and Dahlia appeared to be standing by the dresser with pictures on them.

Hershel spoke first. "Lady Dahlia, I have a deep suspicion this murder is connected to the mystery of the Golden Apple."

"What?" Dahlia gasped, covering her hand over her mouth.

"It's too early to say for sure, but I think that it's highly probable the two matters are linked," Hershel explained solemnly.

"And you think that Ramon is somehow involved in all this?" Dahlia asked worriedly.

"Potentially, yes. However, as of yet, we don't have enough information to draw any solid conclusions."

Dahlia closed her eyes and sighed. "I see…If that's the care, I have a request for you and your friends, Professor. Find Ramon and bring him back here to me. It sickens me that I am being considered a suspect in this brutal crime. I must prove my innocence at once."

Hershel nodded. "As you wish, Lady Dahlia." I did NOT want to help that cold and heartless bitch, but what was I going to do without Hershel? "We will ask around town to see what we can find."

"I appreciate your help, Professor," Dahlia said, smiling. "Well then, I'll be awaiting the good news in the parlor."

Before we could leave Dahlia's room, Hershel held up a hand and made a questioning noise. Luke and I paused and gazed at him.

"Hershel, what's wrong?" I asked.

He didn't answer but instead when to the dresser where the Lady had been standing at and picked up something. It was a frame holding a picture of a young Lady Dahlia, holding what looked to be a baby girl, while Matthew (not looking any younger) and an old woman stood smiling and gawking at the baby.

"Look at this picture," Hershel said, running a hand over it. He looked deep in thought.

"What is it, Professor?"

"It's Lady Dahlia!" I answered. "She's holding a baby, see?" I pointed to the little cutie and squealed. "She's so adorable!"

"That baby must be Baron Reinhold's daughter, then," Hershel answered.

"Her name was Flora, right?"

"Lady Dahlia hasn't changed much," Luke commented absently. "I mean, besides the face and all.

Hershel chuckled. "You know, Luke, they say true beauty never ages." And he looked straight at me.

I had something on my face, didn't I? "W-What's wrong? Why are you looking at me? Have I got something on my face?"

Both of my boys chuckled but refused to answer me. Meanies…

"I suppose so, Professor…Still, it makes me wonder…Let's go see what Lady Dahlia has to say about this."

Chelmey was back in the parlor, looking sullen and disgruntled as ever. Luke approached Lady Dahlia with his head held high and his chest puffed out slightly, making him seem intimidating, although he really wasn't.

"Pardon me," Luke tried to say politely; he was, after all, "GMT," A.K.A., Gentleman in-training. "We happened to come across an adorable picture of you and your daughter Flora a moment ago."

She looked like she'd swallowed a lemon. "I beg your pardon?"

"The picture of you holding a baby…The one that sits in the next room."

"I'm sorry but you must be mistaken," she said slowly. "I've never had any children."

Luke nodded and turned to us with a confused expression. I'm sure Hershel and mine's faces looked like that, too. "Huh?"

"Our apologizes, madam," Hershel said for Luke, "we must have been mistaken."

"At any rate," she replied sharply. "Time is of the essence here. Go find Ramon and bring him back, wouldn't you?"

I grabbed my boys by the ears and jerked them to my height. "If that's not Lady Dahlia in the photograph, then who on this godforsaken earth could it be? I know something fishy is going on here…"

Hershel and Luke turned so that we were in our little circle again. "I think we'd do well to ask the butler a few questions," Hershel answered.

We left Chelmey and Dahlia to chatter about the Golden Apple as we headed down the spiral staircase where Matthew (always) stood, looking somber as his eyes were red-rimmed. He seemed hit terribly by this murder.

"Oh, Matthew," Hershel called, "do you have a moment?"

He sniffed and came over to us, where we were stopped at the front door. "Certainly, sir, how can I help you?"

"It's about the picture of Lady Dahlia upstairs. The one of her holding a small child," Hershel explained.

"Ah, yes, about that old picture…That's not Lady Dahlia, I'm afraid. It's a picture of Baron Reinhold's former wife. But I certainly understand why you would mistake one for the other. They were virtually identical in their appearance, their gesture, even the way they moved!"

"So, the photo isn't of Lady Dahlia, but of an earlier wife of the baron?" I asked, trying to clear this up.

Matthew nodded.

"Wow!" Luke gasped. "Imagine finding someone who looks that much like you. What are the odds?"

"Like slim to none," I said, amazed. Maybe they were related… "Matthew, is there a chance the two were related or relatives to one another?"

"I've never heard anything to suggest as much, ma'am. It just happened one day. The baron arrived home and at his side was Lady Dahlia. I'm sorry to say that's all I really know about the matter."

"Not at all. You've been most helpful. Thank you, Matthew," I said sweetly.

"How odd," Luke commented. "The more I hear, the stranger the whole affair starts to sound."

We nodded and pushed the heavy doors open, reading the find this "missing servant": Ramon.

_End of Part 1_


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